


Interview Between a Player and a Concept

by diablojobs



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-18 02:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20631449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diablojobs/pseuds/diablojobs
Summary: Who am I? An interesting question, as the information even I can provide you is probably sparse and certainly not enough to satiate that curiousity. Still, perhaps it would be interesting for you to hear it from the horse's mouth?--------------------------------------------------------------My first fic! One I hope to make a follow up to, as this one is kinda short.





	Interview Between a Player and a Concept

I suppose your curiosity about the nature of my being should neither have been unexpected nor should it have caught me off guard. I assumed that you were the type of human that would make their own assumptions about me, attempting in futility to wrap your mind around a creature you cannot fully comprehend. You do not even know if I will show you the full truth, or merely what I want you to see. Still interested in continuing? I suppose I shall reward your diligence with what you desire. After all, I’m not totally alien. I was human too, once. The question remains of where to start, and the beginning has many different definitions. I suppose I will start at the earliest point you’re aware of. My brief little tumble down a hole inside a mountainside cave.

The cave by itself was particularly wet and humid, and utterly repulsive. Vegetation was growing inside of it, which probably should have been the first hint that there was more to it than I saw. After all, what sort of cavern or cave features a large enough vine to trip upon when it escaped my notice. I don’t remember the duration of the fall, but I do remember the ache I felt upon returning to consciousness on the hard stone, a ray of light from the hole from which I had fallen. To put it simply, I believe the shock of the fall by itself caused me to faint on the way down. The presence of it indicates that quite a bit of time had passed. I had fallen in mid-day, but the sun must be setting for the light to reach the hole. I must have been out for six hours, and the ringing sound in my head was piercing enough to keep my gaze away from the light and into the peerless darkness. My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness, and wouldn’t for quite a while.

I don’t think it should come as a surprise when I tell you the reasons for my climb up Mt. Ebott. I intended to die. Nobody returns from that mountain. In truth, I don’t think a single person attempted a climb while I was alive, and, outside of anyone you’re already aware of, I don’t think anyone else did. The rumors were likely similar to the stories of Boogeymen or La Llorona; stories to keep children from doing something dangerous, or to keep them in line. Though it should be obvious to anyone that climbing a mountain alone, especially at my young age and without any survival training, is a suicide attempt. I wonder occasionally if anyone looked for me, but I doubt it. I wasn’t the kind of person other people would worry about looking for. They had other children in the village, and, based on the near future, other children would disappear in short order.

Regardless of my intent, I found myself laying for quite a while, resigned to my chosen fate. Then, suddenly, after the sun had sunk a little bit further below the treeline, I found myself suddenly staring a real possibility of death in the face, for the first time. I was seized by a new feeling. A very sudden desire, above all else, to survive. To keep pushing on. However, I couldn’t move. Try as I might, my left leg was very intent in staying in place, my right ankle was jutting out at a strange angle and very much in pain, I could feel the bones misplaced in my right arm, and my chest was in indescribable amounts of pain. Perhaps the adrenaline from the fall had worn off, and I could finally feel how broken I was from the fall. The stone beneath me felt polished, and I was starting to be able to make out a passageway nearby. It looked carved out, and I didn’t remember hearing about any developments in the mountain. My voice rang out before I could consciously recall what exactly had led me to that decision. It was insane, after all. Nobody should be down here with me. I’ll die alone, and nobody will find me.

And yet, I heard a voice. A small one, belonging to a boy maybe a year or two older than me. It was nervous. His first meeting with a human, and he finds one a borderline bloody mess laying on the floor of his cave. His voice was soft. I remember that too. Soft and caring, and very worried. He asked, “Are you okay?” I feel like he was blind, but he quickly promised to find help and ran off to get his parents. I hadn’t seen him yet, and I wouldn’t until he was the one picking my immobile form off the floor. I was in shock, and I didn’t quite process the fur and the snout until I was already bandaged up. I do remember that he was warm, and very soft. Perhaps the first time someone had touched me without the intent of doing harm.

Oh. Look at that. I seem to have used up the rest of our time. Forgive me. I am not usually so chatty. You should know the drill at this point. If you wish to speak again. You know where to find me.


End file.
